


A compendium of Elven, Human and Dwarven Lore throughout Thedas: a bystander's observations

by Cherries_and_bearbees



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: What is the narrator? who knows, no beta we die like spartans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherries_and_bearbees/pseuds/Cherries_and_bearbees
Summary: Thoughts, discoveries and notes from a self-made scholar travelling through Thedas.  None of these tales are in chronological order and might contain spoilers which shall be put in the notes of each chapter.





	A compendium of Elven, Human and Dwarven Lore throughout Thedas: a bystander's observations

**Author's Note:**

> I have been wanting to do a thing like this for years. But it was only after reading Tevinter Nights that I actually dared.
> 
> Spoilers for: Dragon Age Origins & Dragon Age: Asunder.

## I.

Years back, I had met an unusual duo. An elderly mage, looking worn beyond her age and a golem. In and of itself, a mage with a magical object isn’t all too odd. The oddity of this story is the golem. It wasn’t an _it_ in a matter of fact, as _she_ nearly beat the concept in me with her fists.

We were not too far from Adamant Fortress, the shadow of the edifice barely visible in the night. I had made camp near one of the map stony slopes that peek out of the orange toned sands of the Western Approach. The nights being cold like death, I had set up a small fire, hoping it’d keep me from freezing along with the blanket I had draped over my person. I knew I was risking being detected by bandits or beasts but it had been a miserable week overall already.

I was discovered by the unusual duo I mentioned earlier. A lucky find for them, as the elderly mage looked ready to collapse. I immediately divested myself from my blanket and invited the woman to sit on my spot, better protected from the winds and cold.   
Her skin was like old parchment, so fragile it looked with the hundreds of wrinkles covering her face.  
“My thanks.” she breathed out after drinking some water from a skin the Golem produced from a bag she was carrying. “It has been a long day.”  
“I’m surprised there were other travellers than just me around here.” I replied, eyeing the magical being with a healthy dose of suspicion.   
“Ah, yes. These parts aren’t very popular with local tourism I would imagine.”  
  
I jumped when the quip did not come from the mage but the giant walking statue.   
“...Did the golem just talk?!”   
“Yes,” replied said golem tartly. “I can also demonstrate how good I am at beating things into a pulp if you’re interested in a demonstration.”  
As I was making the sound of a squashed mouse in fear, the mage spoke up.  
“Now, now, Shale.” she admonished the golem gently. “There is no need for that. I doubt she has met many of your kind before, especially talking ones.”  
Shale harrumphed, displeased, but did stop her threats. I breathed a bit more easily after that and allowed my curiosity to take over my better sense.

Shale was unique. I had seen a few golems before, used as decorative pieces in Orlesian, Nevarran and even a Fereldan noble house. I had never set foot in the Deep Roads back then, having never found anyone willing to take me along (or found the courage to actually insist on going there), and thus couldn’t vouch for any ‘authentically, unaltered’ golems. But...Shale was definitely different from what I had seen before.  
She was smaller, for instance, and seemed to lack runes whereas the others sported them bolding upon their shoulders, arms and legs. Hers were near non-existent, lacking them entirely on her upper body and those on her legs nearly gone. She also didn’t...glow, like two golems had done, at an Orlesian’s place. Those could move, when directed with a rod, stomping like a herd of brontos, cracking with each finger twitch. Shale did crack, a bit, but had been near silent in her walk.

“Stop staring already.” barked the golem, shaking me out of my thoughts. “Would you like it if I looked at you like that?”  
“I’m sorry!” I squeaked. “My curiosity got the better of me. I had seen golems before, but you are so different that I lost my manners. I won’t happen again.”  
“It better not.”  
The mage chuckled, her voice soothing next to the gravelly one Shale owned. The golem rolled her eyes (!) and went to stand closer to her companion. It was clear she was sick of my company already.  
“She is indeed quite a marvel, isn’t she.” the mage said with a warm smile. “Shale is a most loyal and steadfast travelling companion.”  
“I can imagine.”

I hesitated, not wanting to anger the golem any further, but once more, curiosity took over my better sense.   
“If I may ask...Why are you here? As your companion said, the Western Approach is hardly a tourist friendly spot.”  
The mage glanced towards the fort and sighed softly. Shale said nothing, her face betraying nothing. The silence went on for longer than polite conversation would have and I was about to apologize when the mage spoke up.  
“Shale allowed us to pass through here as a kindness towards me. We are actually on our way to the Hissing Wastes, in search of an entrance to the Deep Roads.”  
I frowned. That was quite the detour indeed. And it didn’t seem that the old lady had much longer to live, if I was honest. A harsh wind could blow and no doubt the mage would be taken along if it wasn’t for the golem.  
“Did something happen here?” I prodded carefully? “I was told the Fortress was inhabited by demons, but...”  
The mage looked sadder and more and more defeated with each word I spoke, so I stopped. Shale’s fists clenched and I wisely decided not to insist upon this clearly painful subject. 

“So...The Deep Roads? Are you a Warden?”  
“My mage has more sense than to be...that.” snapped Shale. “Our Warden was fine, but those in Orlais should be crushed like every single one of the pigeons I smashed on their finely gilded plazas.”  
I felt sorry for the pigeons.  
“I am no Warden.” affirmed the mage with a smile. “We are going to the Deep Roads in search of something related to Shale.”  
“Is Shale from the Hissing Wastes?”  
The golem scoffed.  
“No. I am a proud dw-...I am proudly from Cadash Thaig. That’s under Ferelden, thank you very much.”  
 _Then why going to the Hissing Wastes?_ I wondered.  
But neither the mage or Shale spoke any further.

“I will keep watch.” Shale eventually intoned. “Your puny flesh bags need sleep, so do so.”  
“Thank you, Shale. I bid you a good night.” replied the old woman kindly, with warm fondness that spoke of an old friendship with the abrasive being.  
“Yes, many thanks.” I muttered, rolling into myself and trying to get some warmth with my cloak.

I don’t know how long I spent staring at Shale’s back, unable to find sleep until Toth was halfway it’s course in the night sky.

I woke to an empty camp, my blanket neatly folded, smelling faintly of parchment, ink and the Fade.

I never met either of them again. I don't even know if they ever found their Deep Roads entrance, or actually reached their destination. I did ask some well connected mages about the duo however, some time after I had rejoined civilization. The frowns of worry and surprise caught me off guard but I never got an answer until I arrived in Montsimmard.  
“Are you sure about that?” I was asked by a libertarian mage. “ Senior Enchanter Wynne died months ago. She saved Knight-Commander Evangeline de Brassard in her last moments. The golem disappeared shortly after the burial and no one knows where it could’ve gone. Shame that, many would’ve loved to study it.”  
I refrained from telling him that any mage approaching Shale with those intentions would quickly be reduced to paste. Hastily, I bid my adieu before more questions could be asked.

Sleep eluded me for days afterwards.


End file.
